


Hello

by gothpandaotaku



Series: Short and Sweet [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining Sam, Stanford Era, Unrequited Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Unrequited Love, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:11:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5260334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothpandaotaku/pseuds/gothpandaotaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is alone at Stanford. Sam doesn't do alone well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hello

_Hello, it's me_  
_I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet_  
_To go over everything_  
_They say that time's supposed to heal ya, but I ain't done much healing_  
  
_Hello, can you hear me?_  
_I'm in California dreaming about who we used to be_  
_When we were younger and free_  
_I've forgotten how it felt before the world fell at our feet_  
  
_There's such a difference between us_  
_And a million miles_  
  
_Hello from the other side_  
_I must've called a thousand times_  
_To tell you I'm sorry for everything that I've done_  
_But when I call you never seem to be home_  
  
_Hello from the outside_  
_At least I can say that I've tried_  
_To tell you I'm sorry for breaking your heart_  
_But it don't matter, it clearly doesn't tear you apart anymore_

_-“Hello” by Adele_

* * *

 

The complete and utter silence in the room hung heavy, nearly suffocating Sam with its weight. He stared at the phone in front of him, resting inconspicuously on his desk. It seemed to grow larger by the second. Taunting him.

Nearly knocking over the half empty bottle of whiskey on the desk with how much his hands were shaking, he reached for the phone. It took several tries but he successfully dialed the number. He wasn’t surprised when it went straight to voice mail. 

“Hey, Dean. It’s me. Uh, Sam. I know, it’s been a while. Too long,” Sam chuckled, loose with the effects of alcohol. “It’s been a year, a whole fucking year since I’ve seen you, and… I… I miss you.” 

After the initial nerves get the better of him, his words come tumbling out in a stuttering rush. 

“I think about you every fucking day. You’re  _always_ on my mind. I hate it. I know you think I wanted to get away from our family because I hated hunting, but that’s not true. I wanted to get away because I loved you too fucking  _much.”_

“I know it’s sick.  _God,_ do I know. But I can’t help it. When I’m in class, all I can think about is you. When I’m studying, all I can think about is you. When I’m dreaming, all I can dream about is you, dammit. Get out of my head.”

“The loneliness is the worst part. I have the shittiest dorm with the shittiest people. My roommate’s almost never here. Every single time someone makes a snarky comment about the dorm, all I can think about is how  _you_ would react.”

Sam swallows another mouthful of whiskey, thinking  _fuck it_ , or not really thinking at all. But he can’t stop himself. Dean’s gonna be disgusted by this anyway, might as well make the most of his liquid courage. At least, that’s what he thinks, but what falls from his lips isn’t the heartfelt confession he thought it would be, but a pathetic plea.

“You could come get me. I hate it here, hate it anywhere without you. You could pick me up from my dorm on Thursday. Everyone spends Thanksgiving with their family, right?” Sam whispers. He pauses, suddenly unsure. “I’m not sorry I left, but… I’m sorry I left  _you_.”

“I’ll be waiting. But if you don’t want to see me, I understand.”

_*Beep* Your message has reached its capacity…_

* * *

 

“Awwwww, man,” Dean groans, staring helplessly at the prone body of the Wendigo before him. 

“What’s wrong, son?” John asks.

“The damn Wendigo crushed my cell phone,” Dean pouts. 

John shrugs. “You were due for a new one anyway.”

 


End file.
